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10 January 2013

Just something I thought you might like

“They came after my children,” she
told me. “They came into my home and took my children.”

“Why?” I asked, my heart in my
throat. “Why, for God's sake, would they take your children?”
This woman, with her well groomed appearance and prim posture, had no
signs of an abusive parent, or even a neglectful parent. Her
statement seemed mad, ludicrous, absurd. There was no logical reason
given this woman's appearance and overall manner that stated she was
unstable in any way. Her answer shocked me.

“Because I own a gun. A year ago, my
house was broken in to. We had an alarm system, they disabled it. We
had a dog, which they killed. They came into my room and killed my
husband right in front of me. The police caught them eventually, but
I saw fit to purchase a gun.”

“How, my dear woman, did you manage
to get a gun? With all the regulations, that task is almost
impossible.”

“My husband was a powerful man. He
had connections. It was legal, I assure you. All the papers were
signed, all the arrangements made. They put me on three registration
lists, I had to go through a rigorous psychiatric exam. They knew I
had a gun. It was small. I carried it in my purse to protect myself
and my children.”

“And they took your children? What
logical decision might have gone through their minds?”

“I taught my children how to protect
themselves. They didn't use my gun, we went out and got them
paintball guns, but I taught them how to shoot accurately.”

“Paintball isn't illegal. Many of my
friends take their kids to the paintball range.”

“I understand that. It's what my
oldest son did. That must be it.”

“Tell me about your oldest son.”

“He moved out of the house several
months before his father died. He wasn't there. I haven't seen him in
many many months.”

“And what did he do?”

“He illegally purchased a large
supply of assault weapons and formed a militia.”

“But militias are illegal.”

“I know that, you know that, but my
son... he followed the philosophy of his father. He believed in
that... that thing... that ancient and antiquated document that
they've long since amended into nonexistence – much like the
British royalty.”

“The Constitution?”

She eyed that particular spot on her
wrist. The one we all had. The one where they placed the tracking
device when we all turned eight. “You said it,” she whispered,
“not me. But yes, my husband and son believed in that thing.”

“And you still managed to get a gun?”

“I have never followed the beliefs of
my husband. Besides, that was included in the extensive tests when I
registered.”